Sky Droppings
by Fallyn Irlandes
Summary: Lots of things fall from the sky. Water, the Hulk, strange discs that seem to transmit information directly to your brain...rather normal for Tony at this point. (one-shot, makes little sense, written for my fic-a-thon)


Many things fall from the sky. Water, bird poop, birds, baseballs, men encased in metal armor, big green rage monsters, enormous living creatures from other worlds—yes, many things indeed.

But among the strangest, Tony thought, was the thing that had just crashed through his roof.

It was a silver disc, etched with odd runes and markings that looked important. It was a little bigger than his hand, as thick as a book, and did not look heavy enough to have crashed through his ceiling.

But it had.

Tony was never one to be faulted for hesitating, or exercising what Pepper called 'healthy caution' and he thought of as 'boring'. So he reached forward and picked it up. The instant he touched it, a jolt of something like static electricity ran up his arm and through his chest before resting in his arc reactor, which hummed and buzzed and felt more powered than it had been before. Tony froze, still in the stooped position he'd been in when he'd touched the disc, and waited for something terrible to happen.

Or exciting.

Or anything, really.

He was disappointed when the only thing that _did _happen was the sound of the wind whispering.

At least, he was disappointed until he realized that there was no wind, and the whispering was coming from the disc. He could feel it buzzing through his skin, and it was so fascinating that he didn't let go.

He heard whispers, whispers which grew louder and more distinct until he could pick out words. So this was some kind of message disc thing? Cool. He waited until he could understand the words, eager to hear what message could possibly be sent in such a—

_Botany is one of life's greatest joys. In this universe, there are countless worlds from which to choose fascinating flora to study. Today, I will dictate my research on the seeds of the—_

Tony let the disc clatter to the floor with a look of pure disgust on his face. "Botany notes?" he asked incredulously, staring at the disc which sat innocently on his floor. "That's what…that's all this is?"

He sighed, climbed back into bed, and ignored the hole in his roof as he went to sleep.

The next morning, he used a pair of tongs to bring the disc down to the lab, where he let Bruce touch it. Unfortunately, Bruce's face lit up and he muttered something about 'secrets of curry' and Tony couldn't get him to respond at all after that. So he left the good doctor with his precious information disc and tottered off to find some coffee.

No. He did not totter. He strutted.

So caught up was he with strutting that he failed to notice Steve until he ran into him. "Oops. Sorry, space botany on the brain," he explained, stepping around Steve, mind on coffee.

He heard Steve repeat, "Space botany?" and his footsteps make their way toward the lab, and somehow he knew Bruce would be gaining a companion.

In fact, by the end of the day, everyone had gathered in the lab. When Tony finally gave up and went to join them, he saw them sitting on the floor and holding the disc like some kind of kung fu meditation circle thing, not that he would know.

"Really?" he asked, and no one looked up. He sighed, heavily, and sat down between Bruce and Natasha.

He glared at the disc, then extended one finger to brush against the silver surface.

…_the oil of the plant Rodilia Oxinila can be used to cure hangovers, and—_

Tony's eyes lit up.

"I'm going to build a rocket," he said, and he held on to the disc and listened.

* * *

_A/N: so, today is Sci-fi, and after procrastinating, _again, _all day about figuring out what to write, I sat down and this happened. It was rather okay, but I'd still like to apologize if I offend anyone. I'm sure botany is wonderful, it was just the first thing I thought of. Also, I don't know anything about kung fu meditation, but figured tony would call it something like that. Next time I'm not giving myself genres I can hardly define. (Looking at you, Spiritual)_

_Anyway. I imagine there's some kind of space library which needed Tony's arc reactor to properly send its message, or something. I don't think this is supposed to make sense..._


End file.
